Dear Readers,
When I was in 6th grade at Big Valley Elementary School, they split the boys and girls up and quarantined us in separate rooms to have "the talk" with us. It was terrifying and confusing and exhilarating. First of all, coming from a very mormon home, subject matter did not include anything relating to the human body or it's natural biological functions; rather we were told to wear dresses on Sunday and weren't allowed to sport sleeveless shirts (oh the allure of upper arms!) or shorty shorts. Morality was closely related to clothing, but wait, what's morality? Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked. Back to my 11 year old self. So there we were, all of the 6th grade girls, shoved into a classroom with female teachers, a few progressive moms, and Nurse Nancy the hyper-active school nurse that had a holiday themed sweater for everything from Arbor Day to Lincoln's Birthday. After a brief and over stimulating introduction, Nurse Nancy started a video featuring a bunch of girls around my same age that just happened to all get their period on the same night at a slumber party, so the host mom explained the changes their bodies were going through by drawing lady parts with pancake batter. I mean, who doesn't want an ovary-shaped pancake for breakfast? Delish! After the pancakes were eaten and all of their obvious questions were answered, all of the girls were STOKED to go through puberty. Nurse Nancy pressed stop on the VCR, asked if there were any questions (which was mortifying for her to insinuate that one of us might have the audacity to ask a humiliating question), fed us a cinnamon roll and sent us back our classrooms, where we were awkwardly reunited with our male classmates and spent the rest of the day wondering just what the hell was going on.
It was a kind gesture, adults trying to tell us what we were about to experience, giving us fair warning that hormones would kick in and effectively take over our entire lives soon. However, the mom in the video did not capture the absolute hell that being a pre-pubescent teen really is in her pancake demonstration. There was nothing about the basics of surviving junior high mentioned. At no point in the video did any of the girls increase their bra size by 2 full cup sizes in a matter of weeks. I don't recall that cramps were experienced, that acne prevailed, or that boys would act like complete idiots and say the worst things to you in an effort to conceal their own awkward emotions. That video, and Nurse Nancy for that matter, was full of lies and deceit.
I guess I should be grateful after harboring such resentment for the lies told to me about going through "the change" as a child that no one showed me a video about going through adult puberty in my 30's. Granted I'm not developing at the rapid rate I was at the age of 11, however the similarities are uncanny. Hormone changes, body image issues, moods swings (which is a nice way of saying manic depression), identity crisis, and making irrational rebellious choices have all been a huge part of my development over the last couple years. It ends up, it's not just me. I know a lot of women, I mean A LOT of women, who have hit their early 30's and went through similar experiences. I'm sure that men do to, but for some reason we still seem to be learning about these things in separate rooms.
As I was reflecting over the last several months and the leaps and bounds I've made in my personal progression as a functioning adult, it occurred to me just how similar the last few years have been to my days as a pre-teen. At that age, you struggle because you feel like you're old enough to start making your own decisions, but your parents know that you don't have the experience to make all of those decisions and hold you back until you're ready. In your early thirties you haven't quite yet established your career, but you've been around long enough that you know you should be reaping a few of the benefits that upper management is getting. If you don't have kids but want them, all you can see are the people who have kids (or vice-versa; my sisters and I often look at people our age without kids and think enviously to ourselves, "they have it SO EASY."), which is akin to that pair of jeans that "...stupid so and so got but my mom is too cheap to spend $100 on pants and she's ruining my life!". Searching for meaning in life. Staying up late eating junk food watching junk tv. Listening to the saddest music. Filling journals with emotional vomit and horrible poetry. The list of commonalties goes on and on.
I'm writing this as a message of hope though, to those women (and possibly men, but I'm pretty sure that women got the short end of this stick too) who are experiencing Adult Onset Puberty. I made it through it! After months of psycho-therapy, a near divorce, a few bottles of Jameson, and hours upon hours of crying on the shoulders of my friends, I can say that I have reached the calmest, most collected, sparkling honest, and rewarding time in my life. I can't tell you the relief, the joy, the absolute refreshment of having done so. It will happen for you too, I just know it! Here are a few tips I picked up on this journey from Hell:
1. Nurturing vs. Co-Dependency: there is a difference. Learn it.
2. The grass may be greener, but that's only because it's full of pesticides and other harmful chemicals so it's best to stay in your own yard to avoid making your life toxic.
3. In the great scheme of things very few of your problems are really anything at all.
4. Truth is painful and ugly and embarrassing but is always the best option. I assure you, the pain is far less than that of the alternative.
5. You are what you eat. You reap what you sow. The love you make is equal to the love you take.
Please, take my advice. It will help, I guarantee it. And it will save you a lot of money (psychiatrist's ain't cheap, my friends). In case this blog just doesn't explain it well enough, come on over and I'll be happy to make some reality shaped pancakes for you.
Sincerely,
h.
